


Skyboy

by AnnaTaure



Series: Love me, Love me Not? [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Businessman Hux, Escort Service, Hopeful Ending, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, M/M, Mutual Betrayal, Oral Sex, Partner Betrayal, Past Torture, Poe Dameron Needs A Hug, Protective Armitage Hux, Relationship Negotiation, Snoke is his own warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-05-27 10:57:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15023084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaTaure/pseuds/AnnaTaure
Summary: Freshly discharged from the Army, Poe soon finds himself close to broke, and has no choice but play escort for people willing to pay for his company. Things run smoothly until he crosses the path of Dr Armitage Hux, of First Order Inc.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The story was inspired by this moodboard :  
> https://kylo-ren-has-an-8pack.tumblr.com/post/174886599529/b-gingerpilot-businessmanhuxescortpoe-au  
> Don't kill me, please...

Poe's heart was beating fast as he opened his mailbox to check the first replies to his advert. He had posted it only one day ago and four potential clients were already interested in meeting him.

It had taken him months of internal debates and piling bills to make the decision. After being honorably discharged from the Army due to injuries sustained in a crash (if only they knew...), Poe had quickly found out that veterans' pensions were not enough to afford a decent apartment and pay all the medical bills for the meds and therapy, both mental and physical, that he still needed in spite of his long stay in the hospital. He had picked a job as a translator, but the pay was ridiculously low. He had to find something else. He did not have the diplomas required to teach Spanish unfortunately, and every garage, coffee shop and store in the vicinity had already gotten their share of desperate people to exploit. That was when the barman and owner of his usual hideout, Mr Fred, had suggested... another option. 

“Escort? I still have my dignity, man,” Poe had barked when the man had uttered the word. “I won't turn to prostitution to pay my loans!” 

“Wow, calm down, dude. Escort doesn't _always_ mean fucking. Most clients just want company, or a nice eye candy on their arm to piss their ex, or stuff like that. Believe me, I know. I bought my first flat thanks to that, before I sold it and got the bar.” 

Told this way, it had not looked so bad. Poe had promised he would gather some information and the barman had even given him the contacts of his former agency. It was not as shady a business as Poe had feared, but it had stung nonetheless that he could be reduced to... that. 

Not that he had much of a choice. He had tried and go to his unofficial mentor, Senator Organa, but had been refused in a rather brutal way. 

_Your incompetence cost us our only witness. Lor San Tekka was our last chance to prove that First Order is leading illegal operations in the Middle-East, and he is dead thanks to your loose tongue._

He had tried to defend himself, to argue that after five days of questioning, anyone would have cracked, that he had never been trained for that... His weak attempt had been rebuffed, and himself escorted out of the office. 

Senator Organa's voice still rang in his ears, coming along with the memory of the public humiliation he had received before all her staff. Her secretary Kaydelle had been the only one to take pity on him and the young woman had run after him in the stairs to give him enough money to rent a room in a cheap but decent motel for two weeks. He could have kissed her for that (in fact, he did, much later). He had not heard about the Senator nor the quasi-vigilante group she was funding after that. He had failed. He could not be one of them anymore. 

He had finally resigned himself and followed his mate's advice. And there he was, reading the profiles sent by those unknown clients, hoping to find someone that would not disgust him too much and would respect his limits.


	2. The client

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, since I have no idea about the consequences of that ****** 13th article on my life as a fanfic writer, I've decided to post a bit faster than usual. As the office is rather boring these days, that should not be too difficult, I think.  
> Serious business will begin in chap 3.

One year later, Poe could say that Fred the barman had been right: about ninety percent of Poe's clients only required his company for a day or an evening, and most acted more like friends than business contacts, leaving him with comfortable earnings. After a year or so, Poe had seen it all, from lonely divorcees to a charming seventy-years old widow named Maisie who had asked for his presence for several events such as charities and theater plays because he reminded her of her deceased husband and son. She had hugged him like a loved relative the last time they had dined together and Poe had not so discreetly wiped his eyes afterwards. He still received news from time to time and always replied within the day, much to Maisie’s delight.

The three physical relationships he had accepted had been quite tame, and ironically enough, he was less active in that department now than during his time in the Academy and the Air Force. But that had been before the week he had spent in Hell, back in Iraq. His only consolation was that both his parents were dead and buried, and would never learn of his activities. He had managed to reconcile himself with what he was doing out of necessity, but he would have died of shame if either Kes or Shara had heard about it. 

* * 

He did not forget his goals though, and at this pace, he would need two more years of 'service' to repay all his debts, plus some months to put money aside for the future – buy an apartment rather than rent it, for instance, or go back to university to get the diploma he needed for teaching. Better that than being expelled from his current accommodation or using a cane for the rest of his life because he could not get treatment for his leg. The scarring was minimal on surface, but the damage to the bones still had consequences on his everyday routine. 

New faces came and went in his life, some for a month, others for just a few hours, while Poe carried on with his translations. 

He had been without a client for a week when the agency sent him a new request for companionship and entertainment. 

A man in his thirties, intelligent, strict and elegant, they wrote. _This one is safe... and pays well_ , the notice concluded. As the agency deducted between twenty and thirty percent of their employees' gains depending on the service, wealthy clients were always seen as a blessing. Provided they respected the contract, of course. Two of them had been banned and signaled due to inappropriate behavior in the time Poe had worked as an escort, and he was relieved to have never met any of them. 

Opening the attachment, Poe whistled. This 'Agent Scully' went straight to the point. He needed a companion that was both sportive and cultured, either man or woman, who did not mind cats and accepted intercourse once or twice a month. _That could do..._ Poe thought. According to his profile, the man was about two years older than Poe, was single and lived in East End; that would do nicely, in fact. He logged an option on that account, and received a notification for an interview swiftly. It was set for the following day in Carl Shulz Park at six p.m. Given the alias, Poe suspected his potential client was probably a redhead, perhaps with Irish origins, and a scientist on top of that. 

He was mostly right. 

The man waiting for him on the bench was indeed a ginger and a scientist, with a neatly cropped beard and a perfectly cut dark suit to complete the picture. The Irish origins remained debatable, but one did not need the complete background check to identify Dr Armitage Hux, Head of the R&D department of First Order Inc., one of the foremost weapons makers on the market. A firm that was also the catalyst for most of Poe's current issues. Dr Hux himself had not been present for the pilot's ordeal, he probably knew nothing about it, locked up in his laboratory as he was, but Poe suddenly felt wary and ill-at-ease nonetheless. 

Oblivious to Poe's reaction, Dr Hux held a slim hand that the pilot shook as firmly as he could. 

"Pleased to meet you, 'Skyboy'," he said with the hint of a smile. 

"Pleased as well, ‘Agent’," Poe replied, forcing a grin on his face. "You can call me Poe, if it makes things easier." 

"I think it will," Dr Hux agreed. "Can we discuss our potential arrangement?" 

Poe sat on the bench and cast a quick look around him, hoping no one would be close enough to hear them. 

"Relax," Hux advised him. "Most of the joggers that come here have their headphones on, or their nose stuck on their stats. They won't pay us any attention. And at this hour, I dare say we’re safe enough." 

"Not your first meeting here then, I assume?" Poe inquired 

"Indeed. Bars and restaurants offer much less privacy, surprisingly enough. So... tell me a bit about yourself. From your pseudo, either you are a fan of astronomy, or a pilot." 

_Smart man_ , Poe thought, amused in spite of himself. Perhaps he would be able to like him, after a fashion. 

"Both, in fact. Though I'm not a pilot anymore, hence this... temporary solution to keep afloat." 

"Honest," Dr Hux muttered. "I like that. Are you fine with all my requests?" 

Poe nodded. 

"They seem reasonable enough. It's nothing out of the usual." 

"Regarding sex in particular, is the frequency adequate?" 

How could he ask without even the hint of a blush? Poe had never met someone so... detached. 

"Hmm, yes... yes, it is," he replied promptly. 

"Anything you refuse to do?" 

"No bruises, no cuts, no blood," Poe stated firmly. "And I'd rather not be gagged nor tied up. No blindfold and no handcuffs." 

"Not even the pink, fluffy variety?" Hux asked, sounding almost disappointed. 

Poe could not help but chuckle at that. 

"Not right now, at least," he amended. "I like knowing people better before... trying something more demanding." 

Mr Hux nodded, clearly approving the answer. 

"Understood. I will do nothing of the sort until you tell me so. According to your profile, you are fine with giving oral sex and handjobs, however..." 

"Yeah... right,” Poe stammered, once again amazed at how casual the other man sounded. 

"Would you mind receiving them as well?" 

_That_ was a first. Poe shook his head. It was a huge matter of trust but the other man seemed more than willing to accommodate him so he decided to give it a try. A real smile appeared on Hux's face as he agreed. 

"Excellent! I'll send you a copy of the contract via e-mail, duly signed, this evening, or tomorrow morning at worst," Hux told him. "Until our next meeting." 

They shook hands again and took leave from each other. Poe watched the other man go with mixed feelings. God knew how much he needed the money, and this service would allow him to get ahead of his schedule by several weeks, if not months, but Hux was so close to people he desperately wanted to avoid... Yet he did not seem the kind to mix work and pleasure so Poe would probably be safe. Probably.


	3. to be of service

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the reactions to this fic have been lovely so far :)  
> Next chapters will probably take a bit longer, as real life calls, but I'll make sure not to forget about them.

Hux sent the contract as promised merely hours later and Poe found nothing extravagant in it, no matter how carefully he proofread it. The man had rather simple tastes in terms of sexual games and an array of hobbies that went from concerts to swimming. At least Poe would not get bored with such a partner.

Their first real encounter occurred on the following week in a Japanese restaurant, quite classy but not so much that Poe would feel out of place sitting there. A jacket and a tie were formal enough for the place and he could enjoy the food and the conversation without any second thought. Hux talked about his travels to Europe, Poe about the book he was currently translating, all the while enjoying the delicate cooking and green tea that went with their meal. 

All things considered, it was an enjoyable moment and Poe found himself looking forward their next event, particularly if some tasty dishes were included. He was very open-minded when food was concerned. He could eat and drink anything save for broccoli and vodka, earning a promise from his client that those two items would be banned from their plates every time they shared a meal. This willingness to grant him everything he needed left him somewhat baffled, as Armitage Hux had the reputation to be one of the worst assholes in Manhattan, according to a former employee that had resigned rather abruptly. Perhaps it was saved for the office and he acted as a normal human being out of his professional environment. At least no scandal had ever been attached to his name, no mention of violence. But maybe he was just clever enough to hide his tendencies... 

_Not everyone is like Ben_ , his mind whispered. _They're not all out to get you. This one is just lonely and he needs some warmth in his life._

The whole 'boyfriend experience' that Poe offered seemed to please Dr Hux immensely, in any case, and in turn, Poe had more fun during their evenings together than he had imagined. He came back home feeling better and more optimistic. His good mood made him more productive during the following days, which meant he worked more on his translations and finished them ahead of schedule, which led to a (small) pay rise. A virtuous circle. 

* * 

They had been in the arrangement for two months when Hux suggested Poe could spend the night with him. The former pilot was less anxious about it now that he knew the man better. _He listens to you. He won't hurt you. And even if he tries, he's only one man. Better odds than against six._

"That's all right," Poe told him. "When should I -" 

“We'll have dinner first, and we'll go back to my place afterwards. It's not so close to your own, so you can stay for the night if you wish so.” 

If not for the formal tone Hux used, Poe could have almost believed they were in a genuine relationship. Compared to his previous clients, Hux certainly went out of his way to make Poe feel at ease. The 'asshole' part of his personality probably came from a stressful work environment, he decided. 

They dined in a discreet Thai restaurant, where Poe decided that coconut milk-and-shrimp soup could very well become his next favorite dish. After sipping one last cup of green tea, he followed Hux in the crowded streets, glancing here and there at some stores where he could by some new clothes; his current ones were still good but their age was beginning to show. 

When they reached Hux's address, Poe raised an eyebrow, not expecting the relatively modest brick building that rose before him. Hux noticed his surprise. 

“I had imagined something like Tony Stark's penthouse, to be honest,” Poe admitted with a laugh when he caught the man’s curious gaze. 

Hux shrugged. 

“Truly, I inherited one from my father fourteen years ago and sold it at once. The man wanted to show off but I don't like the whole steel-and-glass style. Too cold. And thanks to the invention of the flying drones, rooftops are a security nightmare.” 

Poe nodded wisely, following Hux inside the building. The apartment was on the sixth floor, and smaller than Poe had expected. After they took off their shoes, he looked around to see a living-room with numerous bookshelves and a TV, wooden furniture and floorboards, unadorned brick walls and a large carpet, a kitchen closed by glass walls and on the left, a corridor that led to the private rooms. The only dissonance came from the couch, which was covered in ice blue nubuck. 

“The one thing I kept from the penthouse,” Hux explained. “It’s not on par with the rest, I will confess, but it is so comfortable you could sleep on it like a log. Not that I will make you sleep on the couch, mind you,” he added hastily. “Do you want something to drink?” 

“No thanks, I’ll be fine. Could I… wash my hands and, err…?” he asked sheepishly. 

“First door on your right,” Hux replied as he pointed to the corridor. 

“Thank you.” 

Poe did not waste time as he went to the bathroom, cleaning his hands, his teeth and his face as fast as he could and giving himself a little pat on the cheek, trying not to look too intimidated. He was not a blushing virgin, for fuck’s sake! But he did not want to disappoint either. And to be honest, if Hux gave as much in bed as he did in the rest of the relationship… well, Poe would be a very lucky guy indeed. 

* * 

When he came back into the living-room, Hux was leaning against the round table, his jacket hanging on the chair next to him. His tailored suits hid a lean built and narrow shoulders but the amount of time he spent at the swimming pool made sure he did not lack in endurance. 

Poe went before him, his fingers playing with the end of his tie. He noticed a small bottle of lube and a small case for condoms near the jacket. _Always prepared, eh?_ Hux looked him up and down with an approving nod. 

“What do you want me to do now?” Poe asked. 

Hux picked a chair and made it twirl on one leg before setting it down and sitting astride on it. 

“Take your clothes off,” he said. “All of them.” 

Poe began with his jacket, that he dropped on the armrest of the couch behind him, then his tie, his hands fumbling slightly on the knot. He had never been asked a strip-tease before... His shirt slid off his shoulders, much to Mr Hux's appreciation. At least the man was enjoying the view. Poe unfastened his belt next, then had to sit to take his socks off, as there was no way to do this gracefully. His trousers went next and he gripped the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down quickly before he lost his courage. 

“Lovely.” 

Hux's voice was a deep rumble, the man clearly affected by the show. Poe felt himself flush under his scrutiny. He was relieved when Hux rose from his chair and gently pushed him backwards to the backrest of the couch. 

“Hands on the edge,” Hux instructed. “And do not remove them.” 

Poe obeyed, remaining on display. He closed his eyes as Hux cupped his jaw in his hands to kiss him. _And then, you will bend me over the couch and fuck me. Classic._ He did not expect his client to kneel, slide a condom over his cock and suck him. Poe startled, gripping the fabric of the couch tightly, the soft skin of his thighs being tickled lightly by Hux’s beard. He felt a hand petting his knee in a soothing gesture and let go of the tension, relaxing and enjoying the ministrations he received. Damn, but Hux was _good_ at giving a blowjob, playing with the underside of his cock, then paying attention to the head. Poe gasped again when a slick finger crept up between his cheeks and began to toy with his rim, circling it before inching inside. 

Both mouth and finger withdrew suddenly, causing Poe to groan in disappointment. Now was not the time to play such games... 

“Patience,” Hux advised as he got up. “Turn around, please.” 

Poe complied, facing away from Hux, his hands resting again on the back of the couch. The finger came back, teasing him for a moment before finally slipping in in earnest. He bit his lip to keep from moaning aloud. If Hux kept working him up like that, he would not last very long. A second finger was inserted, stretching him further, and Poe arched into the touch. _Fuck, he's good._ He lowered his head, biting his lips, and felt a hand pat his shoulder lightly. 

“Almost there.” 

Hux took his fingers out, leaving Poe so hard it was almost painful. He heard the click of a belt being undone, the snap of a condom pulled on, a bottle uncapped, then Hux's hands covered his hips and spread his thighs apart a bit more. 

He was cautious at first, sliding slowly inside Poe, but once he was sure he did not cause any discomfort, he set a fast, hard pace that forced Poe to stand almost on the tip of his toes, his arms straining to prevent him from hitting the couch with each thrust. Behind him, Hux made no sound except a slightly labored breath and a groan from time to time, focused on his rhythm. Poe was lost in the sensations, feeling ready to burst, whimpering each time Hux's cock hit his prostate. When the other man's hand sneaked between his legs and began to caress him, he could not hold it anymore, coming with a muffled shout. He felt the redhead's pace falter, then two more thrusts and Hux followed him. His hands still on Poe's hips, he let himself rest against the pilot's back for a moment, before laying a quick kiss between his shoulder blades and pulling out carefully. Poe was dimly aware of the condom on his own cock being taken off, but right now, he was too busy trying not to fall in a puddle on the floor to comment. 

“Wow...” he breathed. 

“Indeed,” Hux agreed, sounding quite winded himself. “Can you walk?” 

“Uh uh...” 

He managed, somehow. He let Hux guide him in the corridor towards the bedroom, and once they reached the bed, let himself drop like a log on the sheets. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Very long day...” 

He heard a little hum, then footsteps retreating. Hux came back soon with a warm towel that he used to wipe the sweat off his partner. Taking off his clothes, he folded them neatly on the back of a chair before lying beside Poe. 

“Should be going...” the pilot mumbled. 

“Tomorrow is a Saturday,” Hux told him. “Sleep.” 

That was probably the easiest order to obey that Poe had ever received. He closed his eyes to the feeling of warm lips on his forehead.


	4. Forming habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real life has been somewhat chaotic, hence the delay, and the weather does not help creativity. Far too hot to work, I tell you.

Poe woke on the following morning nestled in a warm cocoon of blankets and pillows, and stretched with a satisfied sigh. He was pleasantly sore after last night, and in a decidedly good mood. A glance to his side revealed that Hux was already awake but had chosen to stay in bed and read so he would not disturb his guest.

“Morning,” Poe mumbled in his general direction. “Slept well?” 

“Not as well as you.” 

There was an obvious fondness in the redhead's voice - that or he was the best actor Poe had ever met. Hux leaned forwards and kissed him lightly on the lips before rising from the bed. Poe twisted his neck to look at him, and... yep, natural red hair. He smiled and stretched again, thanking his good luck for such a pleasant contract. He would have to improve some things, such as picking a change of clothes and the like for his next stay, but all things considered, it had been an excellent night. 

Hux took pity on Poe and lent him a bedrobe so he would not have to walk naked across the apartment. Poe sat on a stool in the kitchen, following the patterns on the line of glazed tiles that marked the utensil rack, the room all in white, light grey and bricks. The bedroom had a warmer theme, with touches of red here and there in the carpets and the patterns on the walls. It was clear that Hux enjoyed living there and had taken care of the decoration to make the place a welcoming little nest. Or a refuge from the day’s troubles. 

“Coffee?” Hux asked, pulling Poe out of his musings. 

“Yes please.” 

Poe was picking a mug when a loud "Mreow!" startled him. Turning around, he saw a ginger cat walking daintily towards them, pausing to rub against Hux's ankles before it sniffed Poe with obvious curiosity. 

“Ah, here's the famous cat you mentioned. What's its name?” 

“Millicent. A former colleague thought it was passing clever to gift me with an orange pet… I kept the cat but the colleague, for some reason, is not listed in my phone anymore.” 

Poe snorted and sat at the kitchen table while the cat hopped onto a stool and started grooming herself. Hux gave her an affectionate scratch behind the ears before returning to breakfast. 

With coffee came slices of various fruits, cereals and toasts with marmalade that were promptly dealt with. Unlike Poe, Hux seemed to prefer tea and owned an extensive collection of blends as well as nice, decorated tin tea-boxes that lined up on a shelf. From the writings on them, Hux might have traveled in England, France, India and Morocco. 

The food was tasty and Poe almost felt a bit spoiled, not to mention the near domestic atmosphere that surrounded them, as if they were not strangers that had just began fucking. 

“When do you want me to come back?” Poe inquired between two bites of toast. 

“Eager?” Hux teased. 

Poe knew he was blushing. 

“Perhaps...” he risked. 

“I'm glad to hear that. You feel fine, then.” 

“More than fine,” Poe agreed. 

“Then what about next week, either Friday or Saturday evening?” 

“Friday sounds good. I'd like to spend the weekend at home with my translation. I'm almost done.” 

* * 

The week passed almost in a rush. Poe put aside a set of underwear, a toothbrush and a comb for his next stay in Hux's home and spent most of his time locked in his room with his laptop to polish his work, feeling full of a renewed energy. 

On the next Friday evening, he joined Hux for a dinner with a jazz concert included and after a while, began nodding in rhythm with the music. Hux did not comment, as he was discreetly beating the pace with his foot under the table. 

They were both in an excellent mood when they arrived at the apartment, and skipped the dvd they had considered to go straight to the bedroom, ousting the cat in the process. Hux did not even attempt to fold his clothes neatly, dropping the jacket and the shirt on the floor in his haste. He kissed Poe as he pushed him towards the bed and once the younger man was seated, he pulled his trousers off, followed by his shirt and underwear, Poe laughing at his eagerness. 

“I want to see you this time,” he requested. “Please.” 

“As you wish.” 

Hux stripped quickly of his own trousers and boxer, efficiently, before joining Poe on the bed. They spent a long moment kissing and caressing each other, Hux nuzzling at every inch of skin he could reach. Poe tried to pet his hair in return but Hux seemed a bit reluctant and stayed out of reach to pick a pillow and stuff it under Poe's hips, fluffing it with a pat. He rubbed the little dips under Poe's hips with his thumbs, prompting the pilot to emit a pleased sigh, then bent down for a quick peck on his lips before reaching for the bottle of gel on the nightstand. Poe was content with being a bit lazy this time and let Hux do all the work. He sighed again when Hux entered him, stroking his sides as he thrust inside his lover, Poe gently rocking his hips in tandem with him. It was less hurried than their first time together, with far more contact involved, hands roaming everywhere. With the lights on, Hux could see the faint white lines of scars running on Poe's left leg from hip to knee. He kept the questions for later, leaning again to kiss his pilot and nibble at his neck, causing the man to buck under him. Poe gripped Hux's shoulders and pulled him close, muffling his moans in the crook of his neck. 

Afterwards they got up a bit clumsily to wash in the bathroom, and dropped back onto the bed. 

“I'm feeling awfully lazy,” Hux admitted. “Not even sure I'll be able to crawl out of bed tomorrow.” 

“I can make breakfast, if you want” Poe suggested. 

“I'm definitely keeping you forever,” Hux claimed before a yawn interrupted him. “You're a jewel.” 

Poe went to sleep on this praise. 

* * 

Hux's words kept him in a rather buoyant mood for the following week. Poe had no one to share it with, and in a way he was glad for it, as he still feared the judgment that would come. At least he had reconciled himself with his side job, knowing it would not last forever. 

His time was shared between his translations, shopping and cooking, plus a trip to the gym to stay in shape. All things considered, there were worse routines. He still had appointments with a therapist once a month, and had decided not to mention his relationship with Hux, as said therapist held rather... traditional views on what to do with your body, coping methods or not. Poe would leave her soon, he thought. He had the impression he was running in circles during their sessions. 

Hux seemed rather grumpy when Poe joined him on the next Saturday, this time for a walk along the river, before they retreated to the redhead's apartment. 

“Issues at work?” Poe inquired. 

“More than usual, yes. One member of our security team just ran away thanks to his manager's methods and I'll have a lovely time trying to convince my secretary to stay,” Hux replied with a long sigh. 

“Not paid enough?” 

“Not for what the boss' protege does to him, that's a given.” 

Poe shivered and tried to cover his reaction by fiddling with his jacket then watching a pair of ducks waddling across the path looking for food. 

“Need some help relaxing?” he suggested after a while. 

“I think that being fucked into the mattress until I can't remember my name would be a nice therapy.” 

At least, that was perfectly clear and Poe had no problem granting that request. They finished their walk and retreated to the comfort of Hux's home, Millicent greeting them with purrs and twisting around their legs to mark them as her favorite 'property', before jumping back onto her usual shelf. 

They ate a light dinner before retreating to the bedroom. This time it was Hux flat on his back on the blanket, his long legs swung over Poe's shoulders, his fingers gripping the fabric as Poe pounded into him. 

The treatment seemed to yield results, as Hux completely let go, for once growing quite vocal as he found his pleasure. 

“Happy to be of service,” Poe assured as he laid on the bed close to Hux. “You look much better now.” 

“Come on,” Hux whispered in his ear. “Lie to me. Tell me you love me.” 

“Wouldn't be exactly a lie,” Poe replied, slightly muffled by the pillow. “I like being with you. Som'times I think it's not honest to take your money, cause you treat me as a real boyfriend, not some cheap slut.” 

“You're not cheap, in any meaning of this word,” Hux growled behind him. “And you're not a slut either.” 

Poe turned to smile at him. 

“You're kinder than I expected when I met you.” 

Hux snorted, but there was no mirth behind it. 

“Never thank me for something that does not exist, Mr Skyboy. I'm not a kind man.” 

Those words certainly killed the mood for the rest of the evening, even though Poe was not sure whether he should take them seriously or not.


	5. Clouds incoming

It was on Friday afternoon that Poe received the call. Putting the vegetables for the ratatouille back on the countertop, he picked up and heard Hux's firm 'Hello' on the other side of the line.

“Hi. Any new development I should know?” Poe asked playfully. “You have more ideas for tonight?” 

“I'm sorry, my dear, but I won't be able to make it this evening.” 

Hux's voice sounded strained, though mostly regretful. 

“Okay...” Poe mumbled, pretty disappointed to miss his favorite part of the week. “We can reschedule, right?” 

“Of course. Is next Saturday night fine for you?” 

Poe agreed but wondered what could have happened that Hux would need more than a whole week to recover. Was he ill? 

* * 

Hux slid his phone back into his pocket, turning around to face Ms Phasma, the Head of Security in First Order’s headquarters. 

“I do hope this impromptu meeting is really important,” he sneered, “since I had to cancel a date for it.” 

“Your fucktoy can wait, whoever they are. Snoke's meetings are _always_ important,” she retorted with thinly veiled annoyance. “As you know.” 

“Hardly,” he said bluntly, “and you know it as well as I do. So, let's see how much money he's going to waste, and why.” 

Their argument was all for show, to make sure the firm’s underlings would never suspect what truly happened, not in Snoke’s office, but in a secure, soundproof room in the basement of the building. They left the office and as soon as they were out of view, he felt Phasma's hand close hard on his arm, yanking him towards a service lift. _I'll enjoy pushing you through the top floor windows when it's all said and done_ , he thought. The idea would certainly comfort him during the following hours even though he would never go through with it. Phasma was not worth spending the rest of his life in jail. 

* * 

When they saw each other on the following week, Hux seemed normal, as far as Poe could tell, and completely recovered from whatever had ailed him, though one of his shoulders seemed to cause him trouble. He greeted Poe with his usual courtesy nonetheless and the same warm smile as before, so the former pilot decided to drop the topic. It was not in his contract to play nurse, after all, and Hux resented any implication that he did not take care of himself properly. They chatted for a while after dinner, commenting the last news of the world over a glass of wine, Millicent purring happily on a cushion between them. Poe went to straddle Hux's lap, taking his jacket off and undoing his tie, leaning in to kiss the redhead... Hux kissed him back fervently then gently pushed him off his knees and led him to the bedroom, not switching all the lights on for once. The room remained dim, which added a bit of spice to the atmosphere, Poe thought. Being only able to make out lines and shapes rather than a full picture, guiding yourself by touch and sound... that was rather exciting. 

And there was _a lot_ to be said in favor of 'traditional' positions as well. On all four on the sheets, one of Hux's hands gripping his hip while the other pumped Poe's cock relentlessly, in pace with Hux's thrusts into him... Given the angle, he hardly missed his lover’s prostate, and combined with his clever work in his cock… There were neighbors on all sides of the apartment and the walls were paper-thin so he could not scream as much as he wished, but the pillows did a splendid job of muffling his shouts and demands for more. He fell on his forearms as he came, his head resting on the pillow, Hux reaching soon after to play with his curls. Poe leaned into the touch before Hux helped him lie down. Poe wrapped himself around the other man with a satisfied sigh, earning a little laugh. 

He slept soundly that night, for once absolutely not bothered by considerations on the morality of his actions. 

He woke first on the next morning and after stretching his arms and back, cast a look at the man still snoring softly by his side. 

The light pouring from the window gave him a better view of Hux and he froze when he saw what had bothered the redhead on the previous night: the seven barely-healed circular marks of cigarette burns in stark contrast on his pale skin of his right shoulder. Poe felt sick. He knew first hand how much those could hurt; the small, purplish circles were still visible on the soles of his own feet. Hux had _said_ he was not into pain and did not have another partner. Had he lied? Was he seeing someone else to get more hardcore satisfactions? Old Snoke could not be so stupid as to torture his own employees, right? 

Knowing the man's character, though, Poe knew better than to question him about it; that would be the surest way to make him clam up. Hux seemed oblivious to the revelation, anyway, as he woke and greeted Poe. He kept his mouth shut as they showered together, though to be honest he had other things to distract him then. Hux's hands touching every inch of skin they could reach, for instance. Which led to kisses under the warm water, which led in turn to rutting against each other, their hands wrapped around both cocks, and a very satisfying orgasm for both men. 

The little cloud that Poe was floating on vanished as soon as Hux checked his phone for messages. 

“Ah... An invitation to the firm's anniversary gala. Not my cup of tea, but as Head of a Department, I have to go. Let's hope that Ren won't make a scene this time. He broke a whole bottle of fine champagne over another man’s head last year. Such a waste of an excellent product.” 

Poe did a double take when he heard that name. 

“Ren... as in... Kylo Ren? He will be there?” 

“The one and, thank the gods, only. Why? Do you know him?” 

Poe nodded, his tongue suddenly feeling glued into his mouth. 

“Former client?” 

He forced himself to nod again. To lie. 

“And given you've just turned the color of curdled milk, I assume it did not end well, which does not surprise me at all, with Ren’s habits and attitude. I understand. I would have liked to bring you with me, but since you don't want to see him again, I won't force you to go. We'll see each other another time.” 

He leaned forward to kiss Poe on the cheek, but the other man barely registered it. He dressed on autopilot, took his leave politely enough and came back home without quite remembering how he had gotten there. Good luck that Hux had mentioned Ren before Poe could ever accept to go to the gala as his plus-one. Facing his tormentor again would have been too much. The nightmares had stopped, thankfully, but the memories were still there. Ren's voice repeating question after question, his meaty fists impacting with Poe's ribcage, the constant threats whispered in his ear... 

Poe took a deep breath and closed his eyes. In, then out. He was safe. Ren did not know he was so close, neither did Snoke. 

* * 

The day of the gala came and went without any note from Hux, which Poe chose to interpret as a good sign. He put the finishing touch to his translation and went to the office with a copy on a drive. He could have sent by e-mail, but being a little bit old-fashioned, he wanted to discuss it first with his employer. Furthermore, it was good to remind people of his continued existence, so they would not try and 'forget' to pay him. 

Thankfully he was still accounted for as "alive and employed" and he had a new book to translate when he left the publisher’s office, this time an adventure novel; that would make a nice change from the last travel guide he had worked on. Poe was heading towards the nearest underground station when he realized he was surrounded by three men that began herding him in another direction. 

“What the hell?” 

“Federal agents. Please follow us and don't make a fuss, thank you,” one of them ordered curtly as he pushed Poe forward. “Director Sloane wants to see you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must confess I have a little problem. I don't know whether to end this story on a happy note, a hopeful one, or give it a sad ending. All three are equally likely with the direction it's taking. That's embarrassing.


	6. Interview

Poe blinked several times, dumbfounded. Sloane? Rae fucking Sloane herself?

What the _Hell_? 

Of course he had heard of her. Eliot Ness reborn, to believe some journalists. She had made a specialty of tracking corrupt businessmen, magistrates and politicians, and her tally had logically boosted her career until she reached the top of her institution. Not that it had gone without a hitch; once a bomb had been sent to her office, thankfully destroying nothing more than a glass door and some files. Another attempt had been more successful, as a truck had crashed into her car, leaving her on a wheelchair for the rest of her life. It did not discourage her, nor did it make her any less formidable. Her agents were devoted to her and she had become a role model for may aspiring righters of wrongs, all origins included. 

Unlike in so many movies Poe had seen, they did not lead him to a car with tinted windows, but to a library, and once inside, to a backroom that was both soundproof and nearly invisible from the other side of the bookshelves. He had to give them credits for the originality. 

Rae Sloane was waiting for him with a book on her lap, raising her head when she heard him approach. A man in his forties was sitting by her side and Poe was momentarily distracted by his garish chartreuse tie before Director Sloane cleared her throat and greeted him. 

A long white strand in her curly, dark grey hair made her look somewhat akin to Frankenstein’s bride, though the navy blue suit she wore immediately dissipated the impression before any improper joke could be uttered. 

“Please take a seat, Mr Dameron. We have many things to discuss,” Sloane stated. 

“I’m sure,” Poe muttered as he sat. “With all due respect, Director, I feel I’ve just been thrown into a Le Carré novel.” 

A smile made her eyes crinkle. 

“There’s a bit of that, I’ll grant you. Agent Cornell, please?” 

Cornell and his ugly tie stepped forward and face Poe. 

“Three years ago you were sent on Senator Organa's orders to extract a man from a besieged town in Iraq. One Lor San Tekka, if I'm not mistaken.” 

Poe confirmed. 

“Indeed. How do you...?” 

Sloane cast him an annoyed look. 

“When a politician launches illegal operations using the State's resources, I'd better know about it.” 

He blinked, not quite understanding her point. 

“What do you mean, _illegal_? San Tekka was needed for a federal investigation on First Order, right?” 

Agent Cornell rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, and thanks to the so-called Resistance's meddling, he died before we could get anything from him. Organa thought we were not efficient nor fast enough, but in the end, it was a mole in her precious group that sent everything down to hell.” 

A look from Sloane stopped his rant, though it was obvious she shared his feelings on the matter. 

“We are missing several details on what followed, and I'm sure you can enlighten us,” she told Poe, in a way that prompted him to obey and give her everything he could remember. 

“The mole, whoever it was, sent the intel back to First Order and they in turn paid a group of local fighters to take us down. They guys labeled themselves as ISIS but I think they were nothing more than common gangsters. They were good at their job, however: they damaged the helicopter and forced us to land, but all the team was alive when they reached us. Not exactly in one piece, but alive. It didn't last, because as soon as they understood I was the only one who knew about our destination, they shot all the others.” 

“How do you know so certainly it was the First Order that ordered the attack? We have our own files, but what makes _you_ so sure it was them?” Sloane inquired. 

“Because Kylo Ren, or Ben Solo if you prefer, was there, overseeing the whole thing!” Poe finally snapped. “The jerkass used all he knew about me, and I'm willing to bet he was the mole as well, since his mother could not quite believe he was well and truly committed to the other side!” 

Cornell pushed a glass of water towards him. Poe gave him a grateful nod and drank some, then took another breath and went on. 

“He knew I had broken a shoulder when I was a kid so he told them to start with that one. My leg had been crushed when they shot us down, and he had a great time damaging it even more, everything he could think of to make me talk.” 

“Ren tortured you?” Cornell wished to clarify. 

“Him and his six 'knights'. Some kind of bodyguards, I think, devoutly obedient to his every whim. I did, in the end. Talk, I mean. After that Ren ordered his goons to kill me, and left for the US with his pals, but the mercenaries disobeyed. They thought an American pilot was worth a good pile of money so they tried to sell me to another group. Too bad their contact was a Kurd fighter. They were all shot during the transaction and I spent... two or three weeks in transit before they managed to get me to the Lebanese border. When they found out my mother was from Syria, they almost treated me like a long-lost little brother.” 

“Thanks for confirming all the rumors we harvested along the years. We are unfortunately aware of their methods,” Sloane sighed. “A couple of years ago, French agents looking for ISIS fighters in Syria cornered a First Order team instead.” 

“Indeed. The frogs freed what remained of the prisoners and shot the bastards,” Agent Cornell added. “Their colonel was _pissed_ when he talked with our agent there.” 

“Enough,” Sloane snapped. “It's classified. And Mr Dameron does not need to know more about our ongoing operations and contacts.” 

Cornell accepted the rebuttal while Poe wished the man had been more talkative. 

“Would you accept to testify under oath, and repeat this before a court?” Sloane inquired. 

“And more importantly, since we need proof of their activities, we would need you to report everything you can find in Armitage Hux's phone, computer, and so on. Yes, we know you're sleeping with him. Which is why we approached you, along with your... past with First Order.” 

So Hux was kept under watch… Poe remained silent for several minutes, unable to decide. He would certainly do a good deed by helping the Bureau to put Snoke and Co behind the bars, but the idea of betraying Hux sat uneasily with him. _You don't want them to hurt anyone else, right?_ his conscience whispered. _And if they are behind bars, they'll be less likely to turn against Hux if they consider him a traitor._

He forced himself to nod. 

“I... I will try to find something. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to access everything he owns...” 

“We know. Can you at least fix this microphone to any device he brings to the office?” Sloane asked, offering him a tiny case about the size of two coins. 

“Yeah… I can do that.” 

“Thank you for your cooperation, Mr Dameron. I suggest you borrow a book or two before you leave this place, to make it look somewhat realistic.” 

Poe nodded weakly and somehow, found himself able to follow all her suggestions before going back home, questions crowding his mind. How was he going to hide that microphone? How could he access Hux’s computer without being detected? And if he was caught in the act? 

* * 

It was remarkably easy, in the end. Hux's desk was in a corner of the bedroom, after all, and he never locked it when Poe was in his apartment. Why should he need it? He trusted his companion implicitly. Poe felt awful when he inserted the microphone into the strap of Hux’s bag, as if he was committing a crime rather than help the FBI. He could not deny he had feelings for the scientist; he enjoyed their banter, their quiet evenings and their more agitated nights. Professionally, it was a mistake but he could not help it. 

Every time it was possible, however, he took screen captures of Hux’s computer or his phone screen, copied his agenda or files from his drive, and sent everything to a fake address Cornell had given him. So far, they seemed pleased with what he brought back. 

“Soon,” Cornell told him about three weeks after he had begun. “Just with the recordings of the conversations in the office, we are making a lot of progress. You should be summoned to testify within the next month, I think.” 

And wasn’t that a rejoicing prospect...


	7. Reckoning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the very vague notions used here, but my knowledge of the US justice system is scarce at best.

True to his word, Cornell called Poe again near a month later, after the former pilot had gathered an impressive amount of intelligence. Hux was singularly careless, sloppy even, out of his office, he had noticed, keeping notes and numbers over several years rather than burning his papers. For the FBI, it was "bonanza" every week because of his untidy habits.

Lying to him was growing more and more difficult and it took its toll on Poe. He pretended to be sick but could not keep the charade for too long, or Hux would get worried and drag him to a doctor. So he had resumed their weekly meetings; he would have never guessed that you could make love sadly, but there he was. 

And now it came to an end. Poe was officially called to testify, in a closed-door session for his safety. 

He went to the tribunal by his own means so he would not attract undue attention and once he had shown his ID to a guard, was directed towards Cornell, waiting for him near a lift. The agent led him to a discreet office on the fourth floor and sat on chair nearby, gesturing to the door. 

“You’re not coming with me?” Poe asked, vaguely worried. 

“They’ll grill me later. You’ll be on your own for this one.” 

“Okay.” 

“It will be all right,” Cornell assured, with the first genuine smile Poe had ever seen from him. 

With a last nod, Poe knocked on the door and upon receiving a firm ‘Come in’, stepped inside. 

There were three magistrates in the room and Poe almost, almost turned back to run. He never felt at ease when alone with several unknown people, even more so in a room that only had one exit. 

“Good afternoon, Mr Dameron,” the one in the middle, a man in his sixties, greeted him, immediately followed by his two colleagues, a woman about the same age and a younger man, perhaps forty or so. “Please take a seat.” 

Poe sat in front of them, his fingers twisting nervously. 

“Are you familiar with the procedure, Mr Dameron?” the woman asked. 

The name on her plate was Martha Theisman, Poe read quickly. 

“I’m sorry, but no, I am not,” he replied. “I… I’ve never been called to testify before.” 

His anxiety had been noticed and the trio’s behavior changed, becoming slightly less rigid. 

“You do not have to apologize, Mr Dameron. There is nothing wrong with never seeing the inside of a tribunal before. Quite the opposite, in fact,” the oldest one, Thomas Foraker, assured. 

Poe managed to produce a smile, if only a bit queasy. 

“First of all, we would like to know why you did not come forwards sooner,” the third judge, Julian Denth, asked him. 

“I had no proof,” Poe replied honestly. “It would have been my word against theirs, and they could have argued that the crash and my injuries had muddled my memories. I had absolutely nothing. Only San Tekka could have helped, and I got him killed.” 

“You cracked after five days of torture, something for which you had absolutely not been prepared nor trained. There is no shame in that, no matter what… others might have told you.” 

Poe only managed a nod and a strained smile. 

“Now, we would like you to tell us exactly what happened in Iraq three years ago.” 

They asked for far more details than Cornell and Sloane; he kept talking nonetheless. It was his last opportunity to do so. He told about the other soldiers' executions and gave the best description he could of Ren's six bodyguards. He did not forget to mention how one of them had dropped Snoke's name during a questioning, thinking Poe was passed out and could not hear. 

Poe talked for what looked like hours in a row, allowed to tell everything at last. In the end, his throat felt parched and he was obviously fidgeting and shaking oh so slightly on his chair. A glass of water was pushed towards him, droplets falling on his sleeve as he took it. 

The recording would be altered enough that his voice could not be identified. Between this and all the elements he had accumulated over the past weeks, they had more than enough to send warrants for Snoke and Ren. 

Poe was nonetheless relieved to leave them behind and get out of their office. Cornell was still on his chair, reading something on his phone to pass time. 

“Everything all right?” he asked as Poe passed by him. 

“Yeah… I think so. I’m going home. Good luck.” 

“Thanks, but it’s not my first rodeo. Until next time, Dameron.” 

* * 

Several days passed, Poe spending most of them in his tiny apartment with his laptop, feverishly translating the novel he had been working on for the past weeks. He just went out to buy some groceries and other supplies, and then operated in full hermit mode. 

His only link with the world during those phases was his phone and on the fifth day, it rang insistently enough that Poe abandoned his translation and picked it up. 

“Hello, Dameron.” 

“Agent Cornell? Is there a problem?” 

“Nope. If you have a TV, switch it on. You’re going to like the news.” 

Poe did so, and soon enough, was greeted by pictures of agents entering First Order headquarters and coming out with several members of the staff. 

He watched them go in handcuffs, old Snoke and Phasma and Ren... and Hux. 

_No good deed ever goes unpunished_ , he reflected sadly. He could imagine that Sloane would be extremely, if not intolerably smug the next time she met Senator Organa. And he would have to make himself scarce to avoid any backlash form the Senator. She had been furious enough when he came back from Iraq. Though her reactions did not matter that much now. He had done much worse than giving up a name. 

* * 

They had been taken by surprise, for sure, and no one had been given enough time to completely realize what was happening. Once they were locked up in the interrogation room, though, waiting for their lawyers, tempers began to rise. 

“Which one of your mother's favorites did you torture this time?” Phasma barked at Ren. 

“Shut up!” Chairman Snoke ordered, his gaze lingering on Hux. 

He was not supposed to know anything about it, after all. Snoke loved compartmentalizing the firm's activities to the point that the R&D barely knew if their projects were used on the field, and where. Not to mention _who_ used them. As for as Ren and Phasma, they worked for Security and the common rabble should better not mix with them. There had been at least one person who had vanished from Hux's department without warning; officially fired, but as their direct superior, Hux should have been notified. He had assumed his former employee had gotten too curious for Snoke's tastes. 

He would have to mention that to the investigators. It would be entertaining. 

* * 

When his phone rang, Poe did not even have to look at the screen to know it came from Organa's office. Who else could it be, given the circumstances? Still, he took the call; it would have been rude not to answer. 

“Poe Dameron?” 

Oh oh, the Senator herself. Should he feel honored? 

“Senator. What a surprise...” 

“Don't play coy with me. Did you see the news?” 

“About First Order you mean? Yeah, I could hardly miss them. If you're calling to ask whether I had something to do with it, the answer is no. I'm a poor, lonesome translator and I don't associate with Kylo Ren and Co, as you well know.” 

It was a bit of a low blow, but Poe had run out of patience and courtesies a long time ago. Betraying a partner he... loved had just been the icing on the cake, so to speak. 

“Let's admit that the Bureau took their sweet time, sure, but they finally got results,” he concluded. 

He was sure she did not believe him, but since she had no way to prove he had ever been in league with Sloane he could sleep peacefully. And what could she do, anyway? She could not attack him without revealing her own activities and he was not her employee anymore. 

* * 

Two days later, Poe received an unexpected letter, thanking him for his cooperation and signaling a transfer to his account. He blinked at the amount of money he had been granted. Sloane was... extremely generous in her compensation for the risks he had taken. He could repay what remained of his debts and drop his job as an escort in one go. In spite of Hux's absence that weighted on him, Poe grinned and immediately logged on his company site to cancel his next meetings and delete his account. Finally free! Not that his employers had been slave-drivers, quite the opposite, but the relief was incredible nonetheless. He would certainly feel cleaner now. Casual sex was off the list for him now. 

* * 

During the following weeks, Poe only watched the news when they covered Snoke and Ren's cases. The old jerk denied everything and showed up for his trial in a jacket that even Hugh Heffner would have labeled as gaudy. As for Kylo Ren, he fought his guards all the way, yelling and cursing at everyone in sight. That must have felt strange, being held accountable for his actions for once. Thankfully, his outburst meant that the cameras barely paid attention to Hux. The man seemed calm and composed, as if nothing could move him, a far cry from the affectionate lover Poe had known.


	8. One last word before I go

Poe did not care about the sentences they would receive. At least that was what he tried to tell himself. He would not go and visit Armitage in prison, so the length of time the man would spend there was none of his business.

He could not help coming back to Hux's apartment, however. The first time he only glanced up at the windows without entering the building. On his second trip there, he gathered the courage to take the lift and open the door with the spare key Hux had given him months ago. Poe did not have anything to fetch; he had never left clothes or other personal items there. 

Millicent had been fed, probably by a neighbor. She let out a desolate meow as Poe walked past her and wandered through the rooms. Everything was still in place, as if waiting for their owner's return. Poe went to the bedroom and sat on the bed. The collection of small succulents was still on its shelf. Good thing they did not need much care. 

With a sigh, Poe fell like a dead weight on the pillow, curling on his side. He had been so stupid. A stupid whore who thought he was in a romantic movie, and that he could fall in love with a client without consequences. He had enjoyed every second of his time with Hux, every kind gesture, every nice attention, every compliment, as if it was the real deal. _God, Dameron, you're such a bloody idiot._ A tear began to roll on his cheek, along the side of his nose, and fell on the pillow. May others followed. 

In the end, he cried himself to sleep. 

* * 

He woke a bit later as the sun had begun to set. Something warm was touching his face, toying with his hair. At first he thought it was the cat trying to rouse him but soon he realized that the 'paw' had five fingers and was definitely human. Opening an eye, he saw a glimpse of ginger hair, and sat upright abruptly, his back against the headboard. 

Hux jumped backwards as well, startled, raising both hands to show he meant no harm. A gesture Poe was unable to trust. 

“Stay where you are!” he warned. 

Hux took a step back, then another, his hands still up. 

“How did you manage to get out so fast?” Poe demanded. “Still had enough to pay for the caution?” 

The other man nodded. 

“That, and the only thing they could pin on me was not reporting the disappearance of one of my underlings fast enough. As he had been filed under the "fired" category, it's hardly worth a time in jail.” 

Poe shook his head. 

“There's got to be something else. You were too close to Snoke and...” 

He trailed off, a detail finally resurfacing. 

“Your pseudo was 'Agent Scully' and I wondered what you could have in common before I met you. Red-haired, and Irish and a scientist,” he listed. “And something else.” 

Then it clicked. 

“You're a fed,” Poe stated. “You were a mole for Sloane. That's why it was so easy to access you computer. You _wanted_ me to have it.” 

“Almost right. I'm not a federal agent _per se_ , but I played that part for Sloane indeed. I can tell you all, if you wish. If it helps you... not to fear me. I'm not Ren, for fuck's sake!” 

Poe sighed. 

“I know. But... explain, yes.” 

“You first. Because I would like to know how you got involved into Ren's mess. Or why he hates you so much.” 

Poe sighed and resigned himself to a lengthy explanation. 

“I've known Ren for decades, since we were kids, in fact. My parents were working for Organa, even before she became Senator, so I spent a lot of time around her and her son. At first, things were fine between us. You could say friendly, even. It changed after... after my mother died in an accident. Leia began to give me more attention, trying to be a kind of surrogate mother for me and Ben... hated that. Our relation soured quickly. He grew jealous, even though his mother took care of him as well, helped him with his homework and so on.” 

He sighed and rubbed his hands together. 

“My father left her service and I went with him but we remained in contact along the years. Ben knew that. He was... very satisfied when he discovered I was the pilot for his mother's mission.” 

Hux came closer and sat prudently on the edge of the bed, his hand ghosting over Poe's arm. 

“In his eyes, I was somewhat responsible for everything that had gone wrong in his life. And he made me pay for that. There,” Poe concluded. “Now you know the whole story. What about yours?” 

Hux stretched and settled more comfortably against his pillow. 

“Like yours, the mess began when I was still a child. My father wanted an heir, someone to rule his firm after him, and he obsessed so much over it that he cheated on his wife to get what he coveted, using the cook that worked for them.” 

Poe gasped. That was... extreme, in his opinion. 

“But I was not what he wished for. Too small, too thin, too shy... He had his methods to make a man out of me. Things changed when I was ten.” _Ten? When did the jerkass begin to abuse him?_ Poe was about to rant when Hux raised a hand and carried on. 

“His embezzlement had attracted the attention of Rae Sloane, who was still a federal agent at that time. She made her whole career afterwards on his case. And she also made good use of what I could tell her about my father. Not about how he trafficked and accepted backhanders, of course, but how he mistreated people around him, kicked employees out on fake accusations... He got fifteen years, and lost his parental rights as well. You can imagine how relieved I was. Sloane was my hero, even though I'd been sent to foster care. She kept an eye on me, even from afar, and we saw each other from time to time.” 

A smile briefly crossed his face before he went on. 

"I was happy during those years. No one to beat me, no one to prevent me from doing what I wished... Sloane contacted me for more serious business as I was polishing my engineer degree; someone had taken my father's firm over, someone worse, and they had set their eyes on me. She asked if I was willing to be hired and pass her intel on what was happening within First Order. Given how much I owed her, I said yes.” 

“But it was awfully dangerous!” Poe exclaimed. 

Hux shrugged. 

“I know. At first it was relatively safe; I did not amount to much in the hierarchy and they did not monitor me too closely. As I climbed the ladder, though, passing the information to Sloane and her agents became more and more difficult. Snoke is a paranoid bastard, and he wanted to check his employees' loyalty regularly. The higher you got, the more you were tested. He did it personally to Ren and Phasma only, and let them and their goons... treat the others.” 

Poe gulped. He reached and touched Hux's hand almost shyly. The other man smiled warmly. 

“You saw the burns. Thankfully, they did not do much worse.” 

"That's not true. They tortured you. That bunch of psychos tortured you!” 

“Compared to what they did to you, I won't complain too much,” Hux pointed out. 

The former pilot shook his head. 

“It's not a competition! You might have not ended in the hospital but it doesn't mean there was no damage done.” 

“True enough,” Hux conceded. “I was a rather good actor, though, and Snoke was convinced that my father's education had made me weaker and more likely to crack if he pushed me a bit. It was almost entertaining to prove him wrong. It extended out of the office, unfortunately. Most of our house staff was picked by the firm, and changed regularly so we could not create a relation with them. I had to find someone that was not under Snoke's thumb, so I began to check escort sites to find a reliable person.” 

“And you chose me because Sloane had mentioned my name, or another reason?” 

“I knew you had been in trouble with First Order, though not the extent of it. But I reasoned that you would not be adverse to working with us, given your history with them. I gave you an easy access to my files and no one in First Order would ever suspect you.” 

Poe looked away. Of course; it had been too good to be true. Hux had said it himself: he was a talented actor. 

“Never expected to fall head over heels along the way, but well... I can't say I regret it.” 

His smile was so warm, and seemed so genuine... Poe wanted to believe it so much, but how could he? Hux's attentions had been a mask to begin with, a shadow on the wall. 

“Come on. Lie to me. Tell me you love me,” Poe said without looking at him, repeating something Hux had told him long ago. 

The other man sighed. 

“What can I say to convince you, stubborn mule that you are? I'm in love with you, have been since day one or close enough. If you don't want to hear that, then I don't know what to say.” 

Poe rose from the bed, trying to smooth the wrinkles on his jacket to keep himself busy. 

“Sloane wants to see me again,” he said, more as a mental note than anything else. 

He turned towards Hux one last time. 

“What are you going to do now?” he wondered. 

Hux shrugged. 

“I'll probably leave and travel back to Europe. Not so long ago, I had my eyes on a research project in Sweden, something about aurora borealis interfering with satellite communications. That could be fun.” 

Poe smiled weakly. Of course Hux would not remain in the US, if only for a matter of security. 

“Not that you really care; you just told me what you think of my attitude... and me, by extension,” Hux added sourly. “Go and have your chat with Rae. After that, try and decide what you want.” 

The only way to be more explicit would have been to physically kick Poe out of the apartment. 

“No need to get your nerves in a twist, princess,” he shot back. “I've had my fill of untrustworthy bastards for a whole life.” 

A low blow, of course, but Poe was beyond caring. He put his shoes on and left as fast as he could, slamming the door on his way out. Once he was away, Millicent cautiously reappeared from under the bed, and Hux bent to pick her from the floor, the cat purring at the attention. 

“Don't mind him, sweetling. He doesn't get that his place could have been bugged, or that he's not a good enough actor to have been told about the whole plan. I don't expect he will come around, too proud for that.” 

After petting her one last time, he settled her back on the floor. 

“What do you think about a travel overseas, girl? I believe a less crowded, less polluted city would do wonders for us both.” 

Millicent was not so fond of planes and being locked in a cage, but it would be only for a few hours, he reasoned. After that, they would never move again, he decided. He would recreate a nice, warm cocoon, a house he would not want to leave, and find someone... not so complicated. Yeah, good plan. Right. As if...


	9. Options

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the end of this story.  
> A huge thank you to all of you for the comments and kudos. You know how to warm an author's heart :)  
> On another topic, I know I grumble much about the European Parliament, but this time they did their job right: the European Parliament today voted to send the EU's new copyright law back to the drawing board, rejecting the idea of automated filtering of everything you share online.  
> In September MEPs will vote again, but this time they can table amendments, so they could actually help make a European copyright law which isn't a massive corporate power grab.

After leaving Hux's apartment, Poe almost ran back to his place. He had not lied about Sloane; he had indeed a meeting with her on the following day, which would be their last. After that, Poe would never see or hear of Rae Sloane except from what he could pick on the news. It reassured him somehow; Sloane had been nothing but courteous and honest with him, but she was associated with one of the nastiest episodes in Poe's life now, so the less he would hear of her, the better.

* * 

On the following morning, he dressed in an unremarkable suit, not forgetting his tie, and went to the library where he had met Sloane for the first time two months prior. Walking along the shelves, he had the satisfaction to spot two of the books he had translated for sale. 

Sloane was waiting alone this time, Cornell nowhere to be seen. 

“Good morning, Mr Dameron, and thank you for indulging me.” 

Poe gave her a half-smile; as if he had had any choice in accepting. 

“Always an honor, Director. Is there anything new?” 

“Simply some more details before we part ways for good. It’s possible that the judges who processed the case will call you again if there is an appeal. Some parts of your testimony might be released in the press, though anonymously, don’t worry about that. Your name was never cited during the trial so you are safe on that front. Your only problem could be if Organa spills the beans, but since it would mean for her to face a potential investigation in turn, I don't think it is likely.” 

Poe agreed on this one; his former mentor would certainly not ruin her career just to get back at him. Knowing that Ren would have no idea about his involvement also lifted a massive weight from his shoulders. Another thing he would not have to worry about. 

“This being said, should you find yourself in need of protection, don't hesitate to call me directly,” she added. “I hate seeing people pay a high price for doing the right thing.” 

“Thank you, Director. I do hope it won't be necessary, though. What's going to happen to First Order, by the way?” 

“Either they will pick a new administrator from their own rank, or they will be assigned an independent one. Anyway, I doubt they will keep that many clients after such a scandal, particularly after Snoke's personal agendas were seized and studied very, very carefully.” 

For once they shared a smirk. 

“Thanks again for your cooperation, Mr Dameron. I wish you a long and peaceful life from now on.” 

He was almost at the door of her office when she called him back. 

“You testified in closed-door session because Armitage asked, or rather almost begged for it,” she said like an afterthought. “He was afraid of reprisal against you.” 

“Oh?” 

“I had always thought he would get in trouble and fall for someone within First Order,” the old woman added, “but thank Murphy for small favors, it happened to be you.” 

“Fall for...?” 

Sloane scoffed. 

“Of course, what did you think? That he would be able to get it up so often only for honor and country? Young people these days, I swear... We must spell everything to you.” 

Poe remained speechless for a moment. He managed to take his leave politely enough but his mind was in an uproar. So Hux had told him the truth when he had claimed to be in love with him? Sloane had known him for more than two decades, it was likely she had read him right. But where did it leave Poe, then? 

* * 

He spent (lost or wasted, rather) three more days trying to sort his feelings on the matter. On the fourth, he went to Hux’s building, firmly decided to tell everything he had on his mind. Wearing his heart on his sleeve was not always a smart idea, but he could not do anything else. He would have to apologize and grovel a bit for insulting Armitage, sure, but he had done worse. Unfortunately, Hux had not waited for his decision. The cozy apartment had been emptied, leaving only the bricks, the floorboards and the glass walls of the kitchen. Poe could only guess that his reluctance and delay in contacting Hux had been too much. 

He tried emailing and calling the other man's phone but all his attempts remained unanswered. Both the address and the number were out of order. He would have likely changed his name, Poe reflected, perhaps even his face. Finding him again would be arduous at best. 

_You couldn't swallow your fucking pride once more, eh?_ he thought bitterly. _You had revenge served on a silver platter but that was not enough._

* * 

The elation from the first days had vanished quickly. He felt hollow. In order to lighten the loneliness that had invaded his life, he began looking for a pet to adopt. One of the shelters he visited had an adorable corgi, who looked at Poe as if he was his life-saver. Barely out of his cage, the dog began to lick Poe's hands, straining on his hind legs to reach them, barking happily and then running in circles around the man. 

“Well, mate, I think it's a match,” Poe said with a small smile. “There's at least one person who's glad to see me.” 

He signed every paper they put before him, wishing to go home as fast as possible. He was not fit for human company right now. 

With a leash and a collar, Poe managed to control the overenthusiastic dog, if only a little, hoping the little guy would like the basket and few toys he had bought prior to his visit to the shelter. The corgi, named BB-8 for being the eighth pup in an unexpectedly huge litter, was in good health, at least, and very trusting. His previous owner just could not keep a total of ten dogs at home and had to give up most of them for adoption. His presence would help Poe keep a schedule and provide some comfort, if not conversation. 

At least taking BB out meant he would see some faces on a regular basis and exchange a few words from time to time but he politely declined anything more. He kept Kaydelle updated on his situation, and that was all. He did want any contact with acquaintances from his old life. He needed to start anew, yet did not know where to begin. He tried going to a new bar; nothing dramatic happened so he decided to carry on with this experiment. New library, another market for groceries, another route for jogging... 

Technically, it worked: Poe regularly saw new people and discovered other spots in the city. Honestly, he was bored beyond belief. He wanted... well, he knew exactly what, or rather who, he wanted, but it was not like he could get it, right? Perhaps he should move to another place. Somewhere warmer, for instance, maybe even going back to his father's hometown in Puerto-Rico. The family house had been sold after Kes' death since Poe could not go back there regularly to take care of it, but he would certainly be able to find a decent dwelling in the vicinity. 

Poe toyed with the idea for a while, even looking for apartments and houses for sale, but he ended up abandoning the idea, depression taking over. He forced himself to work on the books he had to translate but it felt as an ordeal more than anything else. It used to be so exciting... 

* * 

It took him six months to gather some courage, before he began looking for Hux on the Internet. He found nothing under that name, which did not surprise him much. He must have changed it. _What did he say about auroras and polar circle?_ So he switched his search to European laboratories studying the interactions between auroras and artificial electric currents. This time he obtained some results and after watching hours of videos and interviews, he spotted Hux in a conference. The man had shaved his beard and opted for a less formal clothing style but the red hair and lean shape were unmistakable. He called himself Thomas Raensen, now, and worked nine months a year in a lab in Copenhagen, the other three being dedicated to collecting data on the field. Somehow he had managed to leave enough clues for Poe to find him, if he wished so. This allowed Poe to hope that maybe Hux was not so angry with him that he had completely cut him from his life, nor buried the memories of their time together as a total failure. 

He was lonely. He missed Hux's wit, and his skilled hands, and his bright red hair, and how he took care of Poe despite their affair being only of convenience - or so he had thought. Finding a partner on the same level was... a thankless task. 

He could try and take the first flight to Denmark. He had no idea about what kind of welcome he would receive, but he would try. And hope that Millicent would not object to BB-8.

**Author's Note:**

> You might have heard about the new legislation in UE that could apply copyrights to memes, gifs and fanfictions.  
> So, would you mind terribly if I asked one of you for a contact (e-mail address will do fine) to act as a proxy if I can't access AO3 anymore?


End file.
